


Say You Will

by kittimau



Series: Dragon Age Lovers [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cute, First Love, Fluff, Gift Giving, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22523578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittimau/pseuds/kittimau
Summary: Written for theDA Loversprompts from ScharouxPrompt:RoseDorian finds a surprise waiting for him in the library...
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Original Male Character(s), Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Dragon Age Lovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620610
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Say You Will

It was the scent that caught his attention first. Floral, yet almost fruity, with delicate undertones of wine, plums and berries, a hint of damask and freshly cut grass. It wafted through the rotunda door as he opened it, rolling over him like a lover’s sweet caress.

Then, petals – a scattered few at his feet, a blend of scarlet and deep, dark pink. He took another step. More petals, a trail of them, leading past Solas’s desk and toward the stairs.

“What in Thedas…” Dorian mused. Another prank of Sera’s, surely. Making a mess of the place, as usual.

He shook his head and made his way up the stairs. Followed the red strewn across the cold, grey stone and the ever-strengthening aroma. What a pain this would be to clean! Although the smell was a marked, and not altogether unpleasant, improvement upon the usual bouquet of dust layering the stronghold’s adornments. Not to mention that of Leliana’s filthy feathered companions occupying the floor above his usual haunt.

As he climbed to the top of the stairs beside the library, the din of hushed whispers reached his ears. The sort he knew all too well. Conspiratorial. The whispers of gossip and giddiness poorly contained, of those who cared not for actually being heard but feigned the pretense for the notion of decency. It was a common sound in the halls of Tevinter palaces, among the parties held by families of status, especially as the one being spoken of entered the room.

Dorian had long been that person. He’d grown to both hate and enjoy it, being the center of such attention. Scoffed at their ridicule, at their prattling and curious glances. But to find himself in the midst of it here, of all places? It chafed immediately. He was tempted to turn around and flee. But not he, not here, not ever. Dorian never ran. He faced it all with a smile.

And so he did; he smiled. Straightened his spine, rounded his shoulders and stepped forward into the dimly lit circular balcony to find- 

Roses. Roses, everywhere. 

Petals sprinkled about the floor in and around the library, and stemmed flowers in vases, empty glass bottles, really whatever item that could hold them it seemed, placed neatly upon every table within the cramped vestibule.

A giggle from somewhere on the opposite side reached his ears. And from another voice, a soft, longing sigh. Not… not the sounds he had expected. No outright burst of laughter, not from his fellow occupants or the raucous, boisterous guffawing of the blonde rogue he thought was the responsible culprit.

“Dorian,” came the deep, slightly husky voice he knew so well. He turned around.

And there stood Da’riel, leaning seductively against the wall in a familiar pose. Ankles crossed, arms folded over his chest, as he stood in wait. One hand holding another rose as he tenderly waved it beneath his straight, prominent nose. Those lips Dorian had come to cherish curved into a lopsided smile, the plump lower one bisected by elegant black vallaslin winding down his chin and neck toward a pale, sculpted chest to meet many more such markings. Ones he knew the pattern of by heart, though currently concealed by the cream linen shirt tucked into tight black leather encasing his strong, muscular legs.

Maker, the elf was glorious even when clothed! And Dorian wanted nothing more in this moment than to remove every offending piece as Da’riel pushed off the wall and sauntered toward him.

“Da’riel, what are… what is this?”

“This”–he waved a long, slender hand–“Is for you, vhenan.”

Dorian blanched. That word – he recognized it. Da’riel called _everyone_ “love”, and infuriatingly often, but he’d never heard him use a Dalish endearment besides the special pet name he had for his sister. This… was this real? Perhaps he’d dozed off, and been caught by a demon of Desire within the Fade.

Dorian laughed, assuming an affect of nonchalance. “I do believe you’ve gotten lost on your way to the garden.” 

Smirking, he shrugged one shoulder at the silver-haired elf and turned back to the library. He walked toward the plush velvet chair he usually occupied during long afternoons of sifting through Skyhold’s limited and ancient collection and casually picked up a book from the table there. Tried to ignore the littered roses beside it. Casually flipped a few pages and pretended to scan the text.

A whisper of a touch, gentle and petal-soft, caressed the exposed part of his arm as the elf came up behind him. “I’m not lost. I am exactly where I want to be. With you,” he whispered, breath hot against his ear.

Before he knew what was happening, Da’riel spun him around. The book landed with a _thud_ on the stone at his feet, along with the rose the elf had been carrying. They were face to face, only inches apart. In front of everyone present.

He gasped. “What–”

“Dorian…” Da’riel said, voice carrying across the rotunda. “I am trying to show you that what we have… it’s more. More than I’ve ever known. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. This is… real.”

Heart pounding in his chest, eyes beginning to water, he whispered, “What do you mean, _real_?”

“ _I love you_ , Dorian. I am yours, if you’ll have me.”

His breath hitched in his throat as his heart filled, near to bursting, with a swell of emotion that rocked him to his core. In Tevinter, such relationships were forbidden. Many enjoyed the occasional dalliance, but love? Never! And yet… the sincerity in those pale green eyes – there was no denying it. He meant every word, damn him!

He glanced behind the elf to see a score of people waiting with bated breath, lining the railing that wrapped around the balcony. Elaria stood there, dead center, on the opposite side, clutching her breast with a smile like he’d never seen before. Behind her, Cullen, cheeks flushed but a beaming grin on his lips. And beside them, all of their companions and friends. He hadn’t even noticed them before!

Da’riel’s fingers stroked the line of Dorian’s jaw, turning his attention away from the crowd.

“Will you?” the elf whispered, the ghost of doubt crossing his handsome face.

With that, Dorian grabbed him. Pressed his lips to Da’riel’s in a kiss full of passion and desperation and desire.

Drowning in the cacophony of clapping and cheers, and the drunken haze of something far more potent than mere lust, he wrapped his arms around Da’riel’s shoulders and vowed to never let go.

When they finally parted, each of them panting and flushed, still caught within their impassioned embrace, Da’riel grinned.

“Does that mean–”

“Yes, you ridiculous man!” Dorian laughed, glowing inside and out. “I love you too, amatus. And I will have you…” he lowered his voice, “In my room. _Immediately_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Let me know in the comments!
> 
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> 
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